Professor Layton and the Gilded Buttercup
by Ferrous Flowey
Summary: There's trouble brewing in London, and Clamp Grosky suspects it has something to do with the underground housing project said to host bizarre beings once deemed fiction. Of course, that's simply a rumor planted to scare people away from the criminal truth of the matter. Or at least, that's what Grosky thinks until he discovers a very strange creature unconscious in an alleyway…
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1: To Set the Scene**

 _As twilight wrought purple shadows over everything it touched, and as some people began to settle down and others got ready to do whatever they did, a silhouette slipped silently between the buildings of London. The hooded figure had a large sack swung over its shoulder, which gave a quiet clatter every so often. The figure made its way to a dead-end alley, stopping only once they reached the far wall. There was silence as they glanced over their shoulder. Nobody seemed to be there, at least. Unfortunately, that assumption was dead wrong._

 _All at once, a group of shady-looking thugs surrounded the figure, grinning widely as they circled like sharks. Not a word was spoken, as everyone seemed to know what was going to occur. And without further warning, the thugs attacked._

 _There were dangerous criminals everywhere the hooded shadow tried to run. Some even had knives, which made the figure even more frightened, for some odd reason. They struck out with fists and blades, blow after blow landing on their victim. There were too many to even land a proper hit back in self-defense. Finally, the cloaked being slumped to their knees. The group dispersed, leaving the helpless victim for dead in the streets. An agonized groan escaped the being's lips as everything went black…_

~((0))~

Several sheets of paper fluttered to the ground as several more were slammed into the 'finished' pile on the gnarled wooden desk. There was the sound of someone scrambling to collect the fallen forms and then a loud smack, followed by several minutes of muffled swearing and grumbling. Then Inspector Clamp Grosky pulled the papers up and placed them in the finished pile, only to find more papers had fallen when he'd bumped his head on his desk.

"Blast it! Razza-frazzin' forms… supposed to be _simple_ …" he muttered irritably. Stooping to pick up the other fallen papers, he sighed. Finally, he'd gotten them all fixed. He sat in his chair and glanced at the clock. Soon his shift would end, and he could go home. That got Grosky thinking a little bit about his situation.

It had been a while since he'd gotten to do much actual investigating, despite the crime rate being so high nowadays. He never got assigned to any cases that were major now, not since a certain intellectual solved the mystery of the Azran and saved the world. At least, the newspapers raved about that. It just seemed strange to him. The weekdays were so monotonous now.

Ah well, at least he could go home soon. Then he'd get to comb his chest hair. That would be nice. And then he could have some coffee. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't too crazy about tea. But coffee was good. It smelled better than tea, in his opinion. It reminded him of the soap his mother used to use, on the horses. Ah yes, the hor-

 _BRIIIIINNG! BRIIIIINNG!_

"Yah!" he yelped, startled by the cacophonous chatter of the telephone. "Just a minute!" he called to nobody in particular. He ran his hands along his pompadour to make sure it was upright, then picked up the receiver.

"Grosky!" The voice of the guv'nor made the lower-ranked officer's knees tremble imperceptibly. "You've got an assignment!"

"I do...?" Grosky said with a curious tone.

"Yes! Report to Winston Street at once. There's been an incident at SubTerrific Apartments and we need your help!"

"Yes, sir." Grosky said, his back straight. He hung up and speedily got ready to go. There was a sudden pause, however, as a thought dawned on him.

"SubTerrific Apartments? That's the place mentioned in the rumors," he gasped, recalling the bit of gossip he'd heard out on the street.

* * *

" _The entrance is hidden. Nobody can go there unless they're invited!"_

" _I heard that it's a housing project underground for people who are rejected from society!"_

" _People?_ _ **I**_ _heard_ _ **monsters**_ _live there! Grotesque creatures that we thought were fiction!"_

" _Uch, that sounds disgusting! I'll tell my children to keep away from there."_

* * *

Oh boy. He knew that something had to have been up with that area, hearing that gossip, even if it wasn't what they described. But he wasn't sure it was _criminal activity…_ well, there was only one way to find out.

~((0))~

"Our readers will want to know what happened to the ship."

"The ship? You mean the Crown Petone?"

"Yes, how much did it cost to build that?"

"I wouldn't know, I didn't see the receipts."

"Oh, I suppose not. Well, what about the audience? From what you described, there must've been massive casualties."

Professor Layton pulled his hat over his eyes, struggling to remain polite. He had to be the perfect gentleman, after all. "Er, no, I did say they were all sent onto lifeboats… didn't I?"

"You did, you did. Well, that's all the questions I have for you today. Thank you for your time."

The professor nearly heaved a sigh of relief at the notion that these inane questions were ending. He'd had quite enough of this reporter getting his story so miserably wrong. "You are most welcome, sir," he said as he left the room.

Strolling down towards the end of the hallway, he walked from the conference room of Gressenheller University to his office. As he passed the bench in the hallway, he gave a small nod to a child sitting on it, though the young one appeared to be asleep. Thoughts of getting to his office and his tea kept him preoccupied as he continued on. Not even a single puzzle was on his mind. He got to the door and was about to insert his key when he felt a small tug on his coat.

"Hello?… Oh!" The professor couldn't help but smile as he saw who was trying to get his attention. It was the sleepy child from mere moments ago, eyes still squinted shut. Layton supposed this was just how they appeared, but it made him wonder how they could see. "What is it, dear?"

The child shuffled their feet, staying silent for a bit. The professor supposed it was as good a time as any to observe their appearance. They wore a striped sweater and blue shorts, as well as a heart-shaped locket. Their skin was tan, and they had straight brown hair. They also looked quite young, only around eight or nine years old. What could they be doing here, alone in the university so late?

"Excuse me…" the little one's soft voice snapped Layton out of his thoughts. "You wouldn't happen to, um, be Hershel Layton, would you?"

"That I am, my dear. Why do you ask?" Hershel said with a polite nod.

"Oh, I've been looking for you all over the building! I'm Frisk Dreemurr. I kind of, um, need your help."

 _Frisk Dreemurr… Where have I heard that name before?_ the professor pondered. "Need my help? May I ask what for?"

Frisk lowered their head slightly, looking quite nervous. "I'm kinda lost. And I also have a letter for you. It's not signed, but I'm just the messenger! I didn't write the letter or anything." They seemed earnest in their denial. How odd. Perhaps they had been mistaken to have written a letter before? Whatever the case may have been, the child had procured the letter from _somewhere_ , which was strange as they had no bag on them.

Taking the letter from Frisk, Layton frowned. "Well, I suppose I could assist you while you're here. A true gentleman should offer help to those in need, after all."

Frisk giggled behind their hand. "Thank you, Mr. Layton!" they chirped, rocking back and forth on their heels. The child was simply _adorable_ , and Hershel was easily falling for their innocent charm.

"Ha ha. You're very welcome, dear! Come, let's take you where you need to go. Which is where, exactly?"

"Well, hm. The approximate area of SubTerrific Apartments is what I'm aiming for," Frisk said, putting a hand to their chin in thought.

"I believe I know where that is. Are you ready to go?" Layton said.

"Mhm! C'mon!" Frisk said, grabbing Layton's hand. The top-hatted professor couldn't suppress his grin as he was tugged along. What a darling child.

* * *

 _ **[[Dear reader; Perhaps you might have stumbled over the use of the word 'they' as a singular pronoun. This is simply to keep gender out of the picture, as the child is of ambiguous/indeterminate gender in this story. There is only one child. Then again, there may be more to it than that…]]**_


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2: Not Quite Compadres**

As Layton and Frisk made their way through the school, the top-hatted gentleman formulated a question to ask his little companion. "So why is a young one such as you out here alone so late?"

Frisk looked up at Layton with a quizzical expression before answering. "What do you mean?"

"Well, shouldn't you be with a parent of some sort?"

"Mm…" Frisk looked straight ahead again, though with a more worried expression. "I, um, can't really do that. My dad's not really…" they mumbled, trailing off.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up a touchy subject," Layton said with an apologetic smile.

Frisk brightened up a bit, relieved they didn't have to elaborate. "Oh, it's okay!"

The two continued on, the mood cheerful. Layton wondered why Frisk was heading to SubTerrific Apartments of all places. The area was rather grim, and it didn't quite fit his idea of the child. Then again, there was the old saying. _Never judge a book by its cover, hm?_ The professor let this thought echo in his head for a bit.

They exited the building, heading down various streets for a short while. Then Frisk suddenly stopped, and the professor peered down at them. "Is everything all right?"

"I just remembered! I have to pick something up, and I think this is the shop I need to go to." They gestured to the shop nearby that bore a sign with the words 'Muffet's Bakery' detailed on it in wispy cursive. "Wait here, I'll just be a minute."

"Okay-" Layton started, but Frisk was already pushing open the door. Just before the entrance closed off, he could hear a voice from within. Despite himself, he continued listening.

" _Ahuhuhu~!_ Well, if it isn't my favorite customer! What can I do for you, deary?" the voice chortled.

"Hello, Muffet!" That was Frisk. Hershel could tell from the sound, though he couldn't see through the frosted glass. "I'm real sorry, but I'm not here to buy anything today."

"Oh, that's too bad, dear~ I understand, though. You wouldn't want to spoil your appetite, _ahuhuhu~_ "

"Hehe, yup. I'll be sure to buy something next time I stop by. If not for me, then for Dunkle Sans!"

"Ahh, yes. I do know he loo-oves my Spider Donuts~! ...Oh, I bet I know what you're looking for, _ahuhuhuhuhu!_ Come with me, deary, he's in the back room."

The voices faded out, leaving the professor to wonder about what Frisk and the woman named Muffet were chatting about, especially the last bit of conversation. Frisk had said they were going to pick something up, and yet when Muffet had addressed it, she'd said _he_. This was strange indeed, but then again, the lady could have just been humoring Frisk. They were just a child, after all.

Layton smiled at Frisk as they shoved open the door with their side, escaping quickly and moving to the professor. "Hello. Did you get what you needed?" Layton said.

"Mhm!" Frisk said with a smile, holding out a large flower pot containing a wilted-looking golden flower. The pot had a glittery pink ribbon tied in a bow around it.

Layton chuckled. "What a lovely flower. What are you going to do with it?..." Oh dear. He could've sworn that flower just moved a bit, on its own. How much sleep had he _gotten_ last night?

Frisk gave a sideways glance to the dulled petals, a tiny smirk playing at the corners of their mouth. "He's coming with us. Muffet can't flower-sit him forever, he'd get angry and break something, y'know?"

"Err, of course, dear," Layton said gently. He'd play along with the child's whimsical idea for a bit. Frisk appeared to have an active imagination, and who was he to break their heart?

They walked along in silence for a bit, with neither Layton nor Frisk able to think of conversation topics. However, the silence was shattered abruptly.

" _Golly_ , you two are _boring!_ " exclaimed a high-pitched voice laced with bitterness. "Can't think of _anything_ to say? Pathetic."

The professor glanced to Frisk in surprise, at first thinking it was the child who had spoken, but they clearly weren't the culprit. In fact, it appeared to be the flower, of all things. Now with a straight stem, it wore a mocking expression. Layton's mouth opened, then abruptly closed again. Was he dreaming?

"Flowey!" Frisk said with a stern frown, though Layton could see something off in their face. There was a pause.

"What in _carnation_ was that for?" the young one managed before bursting into giggles.

"Uuuugh," the flower groaned, stem bending backwards. His face was the perfect picture of mock pain. "That was soooo awful..."

"That's just- hehe- a _lily_ bit rude, Flowey. You should stop throwing so much- pffhahaha- _nightshade_ , in my opinion."

"Why can't you just _leaf_ me alone?!" Flowey retorted, seeming rather pleased with himself.

There was a long pause, the professor watching the exchange with a mixture of shock and amusement. The flower was talking, and Frisk didn't seem the least bit surprised. In fact, they were throwing wordplay at the bright yellow bloom! He was sure this was a dream, or some sort of prestidigitation.

"... _Iris_ my case!" Frisk cackled, and Flowey couldn't hold back his laughter. He never could get rid of his fondness for these sorts of jokes.

Layton, struggling to regain his composure, decided to join in the fun. "Such a cruel and unusual _pun_ -ishment to inflict, hmm?" he said with a weak smile.

Frisk and Flowey stared at Layton with blank faces. "Don't quit your day job, mister," was the plant's sole response.

"I wasn't planning on it," said the professor quickly. It appeared that he had a tough crowd.

Frisk sighed. "We should really get going. I have to get home before dark."

The professor nodded. "Let's keep going, then."

They marched along, the professor still debating if what he was seeing was true. Unbeknownst to him, he was nowhere near done with seeing these strange things yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3: A Series Of Unfortunate Events**

As the professor and company drew nearer to their destination, their surroundings began to shift in tone. The buildings got grayer and grayer, and the street grew more and more crumbly.

Suddenly, the professor jumped. He'd felt a hand on his shoulder, though there was nothing there. Something just beyond his comprehension was lurking. Really, what was this sequence of events if not a dream? At least the dream was interesting. He wanted to know what would happen next.

They weaved through alleys, the surrounding buildings dark against the sky. There was no litter on the ground, and though the area seemed run-down, it was as well-kept as it could be. Layton could appreciate this. At least the inhabitants tried.

Frisk started moving quicker as the professor realized the group was getting close. "Should I drop you off here?" he asked.

The younger shook their head. "Not yet. Just a little further-" They stopped short with a sudden jolt. Concern wrote itself onto their face as they saw their path blocked with police tape.

"Oh." Flowey frowned, not out of worry for Frisk, but rather for himself. "That doesn't look good."

The professor's eyes narrowed in thought. What should he do? The child and flower did have to get home, but if the way was blocked by police tape, then something bad must have happened. He needed more information. And lucky for him, he saw a way to get it.

"Inspector Grosky!" Layton called, seeing the other standing idly nearby. He ushered the shorter man over to the group. Frisk, upon seeing Grosky, hid behind Layton's leg, and Flowey bent over to hide his face.

A grin spread across Grosky's face when he saw the familiar top hat. "Layton! What is it?"

Layton smiled. Grosky was blunt as always. "This child-" he gestured to Frisk, who peeked out from behind the professor's leg- "Lives in the SubTerrific Apartments area, and needs to get home. However, the way is blocked. Is there an area I could take them to, or another way through, perhaps?"

Grosky huffed to himself, a look of deep thought on his countenance. "Hrrmm… We foresaw that problem, and as such, stationed officers in a separate path to make it safe for residents to come and go. Follow me!" he shouted, darting off at a breakneck pace.

Layton gave a small sigh and looked down at Frisk. "It's all right, dear, you can come out now."

Frisk pulled away, looking up at Layton with relief. "Thank you, Mister Layton!" they chimed, though their voice was not as cheery as before. They then nudged Flowey, who grumbled a similar response.

Layton smiled and ushered the child in the direction Grosky had run. They walked along through the gradually darkening area, an uneasy atmosphere settling on the group. Something bad was going to happen, or at least, that's what it felt like. A chilly wind swept across the area. Then, Frisk jolted to a sudden stop, prompting a "Hey, what gives?" from Flowey.

"I thought I heard something… It came from that dead-end over there." The young one gestured to the left, where a foreboding branch-off from the main path was.

"Don't you think you ought to get home?" Layton said. "And that area seems dangerous."

Frisk frowned, brows furrowing in a mixture of thought and indignation. "Um- well, no risk, no glory! Right?"

Hershel crossed his arms. "Well-"

"And I mean, we can proceed with caution. I've learned that if something catches your interest, it's worth a little check. I mean, what if something needs our help?!"

Placing a hand on his chin, Layton reflected on the circumstances.

If only there was a way to make the situation _safer,_ he would be far more willing to follow. _Hmmm… maybe there **is** a way,_ thought the professor.

~((0))~

Several minutes later, Inspector Grosky was standing at the entrance to the branching path. "I hope you're not leading this into a _dead end,_ Layton!" barked the officer.

"Well, I certainly can't promise that," The gentleman said to the other with a chuckle. "Thank you for standing guard." He motioned for Frisk to follow him.

Frisk gripped the professor's hand tightly as the two stepped into the alleyway. Just because the child wanted to investigate didn't mean they weren't sort of scared. Still, they had a job to do, and they were going to do it. They proceeded almost all the way to the end, when they heard a groan at their feet.

"Aah!" shouted Frisk as they jumped back a bit. There was a cloaked person lying in a heap on the ground in front of them. "Who- what do we do? They could be hurt!" Even Flowey looked anxious, though likely for a different reason.

The professor shook his head, frowning. "We must keep a clear head at times like this. First things first- seeing if this person is awake." He bent down and began to speak to the figure. "Can you hear me, sir?" The 'sir' bit was a guess, as the cloak hid the injured being's features quite well.

"Ugh… if you're going to talk to me- ow- at least use the correct term! It's _ma'am_ or _miss_ or whatever." The voice that responded was decidedly butch, and Frisk recognized it immediately.

"Oh no, oh no! Undyne, are you okay? Do you need a Cinnamon Bunny?" the child sounded frantic, and looked it too, waving their hands in panic. They suddenly stopped, however, and checked their cell phone, and suddenly there was a strange pastry sitting on the ground between the two parties. "I have one right here if you want it!"

An arm shot out from the cloak and grabbed the confection, moving too fast for the professor to really see anything too unusual about it. He could make out a blur of _blue,_ though, which concerned Layton. Was this woman injured so badly that the bruise left over was that big? If so, why did she move so fast?

A sigh of relief escaped the cloak, and the girl beneath it shifted, finally sitting up. And boy, was Layton unprepared for what he saw.

"Oh my…"


End file.
